


Come Join The Dance

by phantomthief_fee



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Ending, Body Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Stranger!Jonathan Sims
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: The thing that had once been Jonathan Sims was dancing.(Spoilers up to Episode 101.)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	Come Join The Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [glass eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176373) by [screechfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox). 



The thing that had once been Jonathan Sims was dancing. It glided across the ballroom in a waltz with a mannequin, a smile too wide, eyes too bright. It was as though the thing had been made to dance. Martin knew it wasn’t Jon. Its smile was stiff, unnatural. Jon had never smiled like that. 

“Martin.” The thing stopped upon catching sight of him at the edge of the massive ballroom, its smile growing wider. Its voice was odd. The tone was flat, yet every word seemed to be exaggerated. Like it was putting on a performance.

“Jon?” Martin’s own voice sounded strange to his ears. Smaller than he was used to. Was this where Jon had been? 

He’d been so hopeful when he’d gotten the text message from Jon asking him to meet him here. Granted, he had questioned why Jon wanted to meet him in an abandoned dance hall, but his desire to see Jon had trumped his bad feelings about the situation. His hopes had been immediately dashed upon seeing this thing and the ballroom crowded with mannequins, though. 

“So kind of you to stop by.” The thing set the mannequin down and approached. “I was hoping I would be able to see you again before the show.”

“W-Why’s that?” Martin was finding it hard to speak. He wanted to leave. Wanted to go back to the Institue. Wanted to forget he’d ever seen this poor facsimile of Jon. Yet something kept him from running.

The thing that wasn’t Jon smiled. Martin didn’t like that smile. It was wrong. It wasn’t Jon. Some part of him enjoyed it, though. He’d always wanted Jon to smile at him like that.

“Would you like to dance, Martin?” It asked, holding a hand out to him.

Martin had dreamed of this moment. Of Jon smiling, genuinely, and asking him to dance. But this wasn’t right. This wasn’t _**Jon**_.

“W-What?”

“Would you like to dance?” The thing asked, taking a step toward him again.

“Yeah, uh, I heard you,” Martin said. “But…Why?”

“I’m fond of you,” the thing replied. “Or, Jon was fond of you. So I am as well.”

Martin began to say that he still wasn’t sure why it was asking him to dance, but before he knew what was happening he was already dancing with the thing that had once been Jonathan Sims. Its movements are too smooth. It shouldn’t be able to move so effortlessly. 

They twirled around the empty ballroom in a waltz. Martin could feel the hard plastic beneath the thing’s skin, its fingers poking into his flesh where one hand rested on Martin’s waist. The other hand held Martin’s with a strength that he was almost certain Jon had never possessed.

“I want you to be part of the dance, Martin,” the thing said as they spun. There almost seemed to be some sincerity in its voice. Martin fought the urge to recoil violently from its touch.

“When everything changes, I want you to be a part of it,” the thing continued, still smiling. “I want you to be by my side, Martin.”

Martin’s mouth felt dry. His throat felt tight. This was **wrong**. This was all so wrong. 

“I…I can’t.” Martin pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. This isn’t right.”

“What’s not right?” The thing asked. 

“This!” Martin gestured to it and the scene around them. “All of it!” His voice began to rise as he grew more and more upset. “And you! You’re not Jon!”

“You’re right. I’m not. Not exactly.” The thing conceded. “But,” It held up a finger in the way Jon always had when he’d wanted to make a point. “I have his memories. His personality. Isn’t that enough?”

“No! It’s not!” 

“Then what is it that doesn’t make me Jon?” The thing frowned. It actually seemed confused.

“You’re a mannequin wearing his skin!” Martin gestured violently toward its whole body. He was sure without the clothes it would be even more obvious how **_wrong_** this thing was. 

“Oh, so it’s the flesh that makes me Jon.” The thing nodded sagely as if it were making a mental note.

“No!” Martin yelled in exasperation. “I mean, yes, but that’s not the only thing! It’s all of it together!”

“I see.” The thing’s smile dropped. “You have a point, I suppose.” Its expression went blank, but Martin could have sworn it looked disappointed. 

“I won’t force you, Martin,” it said. “If you truly don’t want this, I won’t make you join me.” For a moment, it actually sounded like Jon.

“There’s no way to get him back, is there?” Martin asked quietly. 

“I’m afraid there’s not.” The thing shook its head. 

They stood in silence for a long time. The thing that had once been Jon kept its gaze on the ground. It looked like a puppet at rest, its limbs limp and its gaze empty and vacant. 

“I’m sorry,” Martin said. Then he turned and ran.

He was going to stop this. He was going to stop this ritual and he’d put Jon to rest. He was going to burn this whole fucking thing to the ground. And once that was done, he’d deal with Elias. Elias had let this happen. Elias had let Jon get kidnapped. He’d let Sasha be killed and replaced. Martin was getting rather sick of Elias treating them like they were disposable. It was time he put an end to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love Screechfox's work and you should definitely check out the original story.  
> I just couldn't get this image out of my head after reading it. The thing that used to be Jonathan Sims, a smile too wide, eyes too bright, waltzing around a ballroom


End file.
